Read Online The Charm Stone by Donna Kauffman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Donna Kauffman
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sport is this wave hunting then?” he asked after several moments of enduring her glare.
He'd caught her off guard with the question. “It's called surfing. It's usually relaxing ” she added pointedly. “You've never seen a person surf?”
He shook his head, paused a moment, then said, “So ye put yerself in front of those waves on purpose then, but not in order to expedite your passage into the afterlife.”
“You thought I was trying to kill myself?” She laughed, and his face reddened.
“I'm no’ in the habit of watching lassies try to harness the power of an ocean with naught but a silver of driftwood beneath their feet,” he said tautly.
“Well, get used to it. These aren't the best tubes in the world by any stretch, but if I have to be stuck here for a few days, they're definitely going to get ridden.” She pushed her stringy wet hair from her forehead. “So, now that you and I have an understanding, I would appreciate it if you would put me down. Pretty please,” she added with a fake smile.
“I'll put ye down when I'm good and ready.”
Undeterred, she tried a different tack. “You must be cold. Don't you think you should go get into something dry?”
Providing you don't take me with you while you do it,
she added silently, wishing she'd thought that one through a bit better.
“The cold doesna bother me. Nor the damp.”
“Oh.” Well. Of course, now that he'd gone and mentioned it, she became hyperaware of that damp chest she was clasped against, covered in a white cotton shirt that now clung transparently to his skin. His muscles were clearly defined, as was the scattering of dark hair that swirled over his pecs.
She shifted her gaze away only to find him smiling at her. Caught. How mortifying. She forced herself not to squirm, but there was no denying her body was responding quite enthusiastically to her current predicament. All the more reason to end it immediately. She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “I could teach you. To surf, I mean.”
Bingo.
He let her feet drop to the sand, then steadied her with one hand, before taking a step back. “I dinna share yer enthusiasm for taming the waters.”
She cocked her head and studied him. “You're not telling me you're afraid of the water, are you?”
“I'm no’ afraid of anything.” He plucked at his shirtsleeves, pulling the soggy fabric from his biceps and momentarily distracting her. “I simply dinna care to flounder about in it. I leave that to the fish.”
She dragged her gaze from his arms, but his face was just as arresting. In full daylight he was even more imposing. His dark hair fell to his shoulders, his face was all hard angles, but they were relieved by what had to be the most seductively curved lips she'd ever seen on a man. And those eyes. So dark, even now in the sunlight, she swore they were fully black. But they were far from cold. In fact, it was as if they sucked up all the available heat, then focused it in one tight beam… a beam currently directed right at her.
She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the chilly sand.
“Yer cold,” he said. “Ye should change before we move yer things to the tower.”
Oddly touched by his obviously sincere concern, her guard dropped. “That's okay, really. I just-Wait a minute! Did you say move? I'm not moving anything.” She popped her board off the sand with her foot and grabbed it with both hands. If he came so much as a foot closer, she was going to clobber him with it.
This made the second time in two months she'd been forced to think of her board as a weapon. Well, they didn't call them guns for nothing, she thought. But they were for shooting waves. “All I wanted to do was surf,” she muttered. She lifted the board over her head and started off with very determined stridestoward Gregor's place. “I'm going inside. Do not follow me.”
Keep walking, act like you own the world.
She wanted to run. All the way back to Parker's Inlet.
He'd caught her off guard with the question. “It's called surfing. It's usually relaxing ” she added pointedly. “You've never seen a person surf?”
He shook his head, paused a moment, then said, “So ye put yerself in front of those waves on purpose then, but not in order to expedite your passage into the afterlife.”
“You thought I was trying to kill myself?” She laughed, and his face reddened.
“I'm no’ in the habit of watching lassies try to harness the power of an ocean with naught but a silver of driftwood beneath their feet,” he said tautly.
“Well, get used to it. These aren't the best tubes in the world by any stretch, but if I have to be stuck here for a few days, they're definitely going to get ridden.” She pushed her stringy wet hair from her forehead. “So, now that you and I have an understanding, I would appreciate it if you would put me down. Pretty please,” she added with a fake smile.
“I'll put ye down when I'm good and ready.”
Undeterred, she tried a different tack. “You must be cold. Don't you think you should go get into something dry?”
Providing you don't take me with you while you do it,
she added silently, wishing she'd thought that one through a bit better.
“The cold doesna bother me. Nor the damp.”
“Oh.” Well. Of course, now that he'd gone and mentioned it, she became hyperaware of that damp chest she was clasped against, covered in a white cotton shirt that now clung transparently to his skin. His muscles were clearly defined, as was the scattering of dark hair that swirled over his pecs.
She shifted her gaze away only to find him smiling at her. Caught. How mortifying. She forced herself not to squirm, but there was no denying her body was responding quite enthusiastically to her current predicament. All the more reason to end it immediately. She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “I could teach you. To surf, I mean.”
Bingo.
He let her feet drop to the sand, then steadied her with one hand, before taking a step back. “I dinna share yer enthusiasm for taming the waters.”
She cocked her head and studied him. “You're not telling me you're afraid of the water, are you?”
“I'm no’ afraid of anything.” He plucked at his shirtsleeves, pulling the soggy fabric from his biceps and momentarily distracting her. “I simply dinna care to flounder about in it. I leave that to the fish.”
She dragged her gaze from his arms, but his face was just as arresting. In full daylight he was even more imposing. His dark hair fell to his shoulders, his face was all hard angles, but they were relieved by what had to be the most seductively curved lips she'd ever seen on a man. And those eyes. So dark, even now in the sunlight, she swore they were fully black. But they were far from cold. In fact, it was as if they sucked up all the available heat, then focused it in one tight beam… a beam currently directed right at her.
She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the chilly sand.
“Yer cold,” he said. “Ye should change before we move yer things to the tower.”
Oddly touched by his obviously sincere concern, her guard dropped. “That's okay, really. I just-Wait a minute! Did you say move? I'm not moving anything.” She popped her board off the sand with her foot and grabbed it with both hands. If he came so much as a foot closer, she was going to clobber him with it.
This made the second time in two months she'd been forced to think of her board as a weapon. Well, they didn't call them guns for nothing, she thought. But they were for shooting waves. “All I wanted to do was surf,” she muttered. She lifted the board over her head and started off with very determined stridestoward Gregor's place. “I'm going inside. Do not follow me.”
Keep walking, act like you own the world.
She wanted to run. All the way back to Parker's Inlet.
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